ABC (Easy as 1 2 3)
by PhantomBlaze
Summary: [askboxmeme Alphabet prompts] Current prompt: Offer Me - Gotei 13 Date Auction. Summary: This is a ridiculous idea. Much like all the ideas Shinigami Women's Association ever came up with.
1. Offer Me

**Offer Me: **Seireitei Date Auction

**A/N: **This is part of the askboxmeme Alphabet Drabble Prompts (link in my profile). Accidentally ran away with it and now it's more than a drabble.

General Prompt: a drabble about one character giving another a gift.  
Specified Prompt: Seireitei Date Auction

**Disclaimer:** BLEACH belongs to Kubo Tite.

* * *

This is a _ridiculous_ idea. Much like all the ideas Shinigami Women's Association ever came up with. Well, after another demonstration of Kusajishi Yachiru's lack of restraint and priorities, _of course_ the SWA would run out of funds. This is what happens if you give a child unsupervised control over things she doesn't even care to understand. And this is also what happens when you let the child talk (more like scream) everyone into one of her stupid, stupid schemes.  
Brat.

"I don't see what's wrong with the idea," Matsumoto Rangiku barely looks up from filing her nails, "I mean, it is quite an attractive way to raise funds."

"Plus," Ise Nanao supplies while flicking through her 'statistics', "It would probably be the fastest and most efficient way."

"I refuse to believe there aren't any...more dignified... methods of fundraising," Soi Fon glares at the rest of the occupants in the room.

Kuchiki Rukia snorts, "What, like taking stalker shots of your fellow shinigamis?"

Soi Fon will not stoop down to her level and grace her with a response so she continues on as if Rukia has not spoken, "Either way, you cannot force my participation in this activity." She refuses to allow them to tarnish her pride and her good name, even if it's for a "good cause".

"You're quite right, Soi Fon-taichou. We cannot force your participation. All we can hope for, is your willing participation to aid your fellow club members," Unohana Retsu speaks up from the far corner, where she's been quietly observing their discussion, "Ara. Did I not mention that everyone was quite worried about your left arm, Soi Fon-taichou? It would be considerate to show them you're _alive and well_, don't you think?" She ends her sentence with a soft smile.

A soft smile that sends a chill down every one of their spines.

The sudden tension in the room makes it hard to breathe. Of all the horrible sights Soi Fon has ever witnessed, nothing terrifies her more than the tiny, almost unnoticeable spike of reiatsu of the ever calm Unohana.

Unohana takes a sip of her tea, "I trust that Soi Fon-taichou would take more time to consider our request?"

"I-I- I suppose there is no harm in participating," She finally stammers out while trying to ignore the sympathetic looks the rest of the members of SWA are throwing at her.

"Good. That is settled then." The smile plastered on Unohana's face turns a lot warmer, melting away the previous tension. "Nanao-san, looks like the Gotei 13 Date Auction is now official."

* * *

No matter what anyone says, this is still one of the dumbest, most uncreative fundraising ideas Soi Fon ever participated in. It's not like Unohana-taichou pressured her into this, no. It's just that those fools clearly haven't got any better ideas and they've run out of time. Consider this Soi Fon's act of charity or good will, whatever.

This is for a good cause, after all. Soi Fon reminds herself as she tightens the obi of her flowery yukata. (All those liberal splashes of pink.) The material is restricting and the style is so unlike her. But what can you expect when the rest of the SWA decided to use her to play dress up.

Ugh. At least she's not suffering this alone.

Most of the captains of Gotei 13 would be auctioned off today. Well, a date with the captains would be auctioned off. Soi Fon has to admit, quite begrudgingly, that Nanao is right when she said that this is the fastest way to fundraise. After the defeat of Aizen, the usual fawning and worshipping of the captains have now escalated to a whole new level of frenzied obsession. Despite their initial tentative reception, even the reinstated Vizard captains proved to be pretty popular.

The more the crowd anticipates this event, the more Soi Fon dreads it. Of all the things she could be doing at this time! A troublesome date with a rabid fan would not decrease the size of her stack of paperwork. Plus, her entire squad taking today off to "cheer her on" would only mean a perfectly good training day wasted. See why this is just ridiculous?

Rangiku pokes her head into the dressing room the WSA has _kindly_ provided for the sole participating female captain, "You ready to go?"

Soi Fon tosses her braids haughtily over her shoulders, "When am I not ready for anything?" Whatever. The sooner this is done, the better.

"Well, we do have a little bet running," Rangiku says as she accompanies Soi Fon to the backstage waiting area. "The highest bid would either go to you or Toushirou."

She rolls her eyes at Rangiku but she's being ushered towards the stage before she has the chance to reply. If she does score the highest bid, then consider her sacrifice of dignity not wasted. Anything lower than that... would be unacceptable.

From her place behind the curtains, she could hear the captain that's currently being auctioned off. Soi Fon's not exactly sure if she should be amused about the rather poor bids for Zaraki Kenpachi or feel sorry for him. His overwhelming lack of appeal is unsurprising - he probably interprets the "date" as a duel. Any sane person would never place a bid-

"5,000 Kan for Ken-chan!"

Well, Yachiru is clearly insane. Or kind enough to throw him a pity bid.

There's a weird pause before the auctioneer speaks again, "All right, we have 5,000 Kan. Do we hear an offer of 5,500 Kan? No?" The auctioneer is speeding through the usual procedure. Not that Soi Fon could blame the poor guy. 5,000 is already an unexpectedly good bid, even if it's from the president of SWA herself. "Going once!"

"Is that all you weaklings got?" A demonic laughter thunders out, "Come on! You fools afraid to fight me? Komamura! Why aren't you bidding? I expect you to be thirsty for a rematch!"

If there's a wall, Soi Fon probably would have smashed her head into it in second-hand embarrassment.

"Going twice. Sold!" The auctioneer cuts in before Kenpachi could scare away the rest of the attendants. "A date with Zaraki Kenpachi of Division 11 goes to Kusajishi-fukutaichou for 5,000 Kan."

Soi Fon watches as Yachiru happily drags a confused Kenpachi backstage. Well, that took far too long. And no, she hasn't spent the last few minutes stewing in her own anxieties. She was just squeezing her fists to get used to her newly restored left arm. Please, Soi Fon is the Captain of the 2nd Division and the Commander of the Onmitsukidou, for god's sake. So she takes her place, centre stage, chin high and wearing her usual arrogant smirk.

"Throw the highest bids you possibly can, you lowly peasants," She mutters to herself as she surveys the crowd. "I dare you."

"Ok, a date with our only female captain participating today, the ever mysterious leader of Division 2, Soi Fon. Since Soi Fon-taichou is highly desirable, we'll start the bids at 10,000 Kan."

Her smirk widens as several hands shot into the air, eager to outbid each other. The bid climbs quickly from 10,000 to 100,000 within minutes. Soi Fon can't say she isn't pleased with the result, but 100,000 is still a far cry from Kuchiki Byakuya's bid of 250,000 and Hitsugaya Toushirou's 300,000 Kan.

"200,000 Kan!" A booming voice calls out.

Soi Fon's face blanches as soon as she recognised the source. _Oh, god, no_. She spots him soon enough, standing way too close to the stage for her comfort. It's not that hard, considering his hulking stature and his disgusting sense of style. Trust Enjouji Tatsufusa to be throwing out such a high bid in his only chance to date her. Unfortunately, there is no way she could refuse a date if he does win. See, this is why she never wanted to do this in the first place. That Yachiru brat...

"200,000 Kan? All right, any offers of 250,000?" The auctioneer looks around at the dazed crowd. Sure, the ladies of Seireitei wouldn't hesitate to throw out a few thousand Kan for the ikemen captains. The men... not so forward. Especially knowing her reputation as a... cold, hard bitch, to put it in such ungraceful terms.

A voice, familiar in its smugness, interrupts with a careless drawl, "Here, an offer of 250,000." Urahara Kisuke loiters near the back of the crowd. His striped bucket hat covers his face, except for that infuriating sly smile. She catches his lazy wave at her.

Right, so is today Antagonise-Soi-Fon Day or what?

"If you win, I will disembowel you in your sleep," She mouths at him, knowing full well that he can easily read her lips from that distance.

Urahara simply grins back. He gives her a nonchalant shrug before flipping open his fan and hiding behind it. _Damn that insufferable asshole._

"300,000!" Enjouji yells out, sounding absolutely enraged.

Well, crap.

Soi Fon doesn't even spare him a glance, instead, turning to look at Urahara. Usually, she wouldn't be this desperate to even seek his help, but this is an emergency situation. Urahara, being the jerk that he is, refuses to meet her eyes. He even turned his back on her. She continues to glare daggers into his back, imagining herself firing shunkou shots at him. If she concentrates hard enough, maybe he'll feel a bit of pain or something. She is not going to lose this without dragging someone else down with her.

When no one seems to respond to the counteroffer, the auctioneer raises his hammer, "Soi Fon-taichou, for 300,000 Kan. Going once."

Urahara yawns and stretches. Soi Fon is practically begging him with her eyes but he just chuckles at her. She makes out a not so apologetic "Sorry, can't save your ass this time" before he puts his fan back up.

"Going twice."

She's back to full on glaring at him now (If she isn't wearing this yukata, she could have shunpo-ed down the stage, smack that poor excuse of a hat off his head and get back without anyone noticing). She'd rather endure Urahara's smug face than the stupid cocky look on Enjouji as he counts down her doom. She may want to punch Urahara, but if she risks even a small glance at Enjouji right now, she probably won't be able to stop herself from viciously murdering him on the spot.

"So-"

"400,000."

Soi Fon's head snaps up so quickly, she's pretty sure she's suffered whiplash. Or she's been standing in the sun for far too long and now she's dizzy and hallucinating. But even without the confirmation of the new reiatsu signature, the coy smile and golden eyes twinkling back at her from the nearby rooftop are more than real enough.

As the Captain of Division 2 and Commander of the Onmitsukidou, Soi Fon can't help but feel a little frustrated that Shihouin Yoruichi is always there, at the very last minute, to save her even though she's more than capable now. But the young Shaolin Fon that still lives – hidden deep in her heart – can't stop the warmth and affection arising, unbidden, from the mere thought of her unfailing Yoruichi-sama returning for her.

If Soi Fon is to be perfectly honest to herself, Shaolin Fon may not rule her orderly military mind but she still rules a major part of her heart. Ok, fine, she's as much of a romantic and an idealist as she was back then. And it's not like Yoruichi-sama makes it any easier. Occasionally, it is kind of nice to lose yourself in the fantasy of the damsel in distress, especially when your charming princess happens to be quite competent in her role as your saviour.

Oh, and there's that stupid, _stupid_ smile.

"Sold! A date with Soi Fon of Division 2 goes to Shihouin Yoruichi-sama for 400,000 Kan."

Soi Fon watches as the excited grin spread across Yoruichi's face, feeling her own lips quirking up in response. Only Yoruichi can get away with that pleased, self-assured look, sly cat that she is. Soi Fon rolls her eyes, not entirely sure if it's directed at herself or at Yoruichi childishly sticking her tongue out at Enjouji.

A flash and suddenly Yoruichi is too close, too fast. Soi Fon doesn't get a chance to cover up her accidental hitch of breath with a cough. Yoruichi smirks at her knowingly but at least she refrained from her usual teasing. Soi Fon's allowed to turn away to hide her blush with her dignity intact. For now anyway.

Soi Fon catches a movement by her side, turning to find Yoruichi with her arm extended, "Shall we?"

It's kind of scary, seeing Yoruichi before her now. The laughter in those warm eyes and the familiarity of her reiatsu don't stop a sense of uncertainty creeping up upon Soi Fon. When you've forced yourself into thinking you'll never be worthy enough in her company and spend a whole century hating her and trying to surpass her, only to find that you still can't. Well, that deeply ingrained sense of inferiority does mock any bit of confidence you might have gained. Soi Fon still doesn't quite believe Yoruichi is here. Standing before her with an assuring smile and holding her arm out like the elegant noble that she is.

Yoruichi must have noticed the wave of uncertainty flickering across her face (of course she does). She nudges her gently, throwing a playful wink at her when Soi Fon finally looks up. That and a feather light whisper of _come on_ are enough to snap her out of her thoughts.

Shaolin Fon would be a timid, stammering mess by now. But seasoned captain of the deadliest squad of Gotei 13 would simply toss her hair back and return Yoruichi with a confident smile before taking her arm. She allows Yoruichi to lead her, shunpo-ing off into the crowd.

Well, what can she say, a flashy entrance and exit befitting the Shunshin herself.

* * *

Soi Fon and Yoruichi slow to a normal pace a fair distance away from the auction ground. Soi Fon notices the presence of another before she gets a chance to speak. She really should know by now, nothing is supposed to ever go according to her plans today.

_"Are,"_ Urahara approaches them, acting uncannily like those bored gossipy housewives. "Looks like you made it, Yoruichi."

"Kisuke, I thought you said you were gonna help me out," Yoruichi complains as she throws a punch at his shoulder.

"But I did!"

"Then why did I almost lose that bid to that Enjouji bastard?"

Urahara chuckles, tapping his closed fan on Yoruichi's shoulder, "I threw out the bid and stalled him. Just like you asked. You can only blame yourself for your own tardiness."

"What the hell is going on?" Soi Fon looks at the two. Yoruichi has gone uncharacteristically quiet, fidgeting with the ends of her scarf. Urahara, on the other hand, seems to be enjoying the awkwardness that's starting to seep into the atmosphere.

He gives an offhand wave of his fan, "You should be thanking me, you know. Both of you. I mean, I could be taking a nap back home right now but..."

Soi Fon shoots the shameless man an icy sidelong look.

"Right." Yoruichi snorts, "Like you weren't the one that told me about the auction thing in the first place. Plus, I do remember you yakking on about how you want a date with, and I quote, the _gorgeous gentleman_ Ukitake-taichou."

Lost in her own thoughts, Soi Fon doesn't really catch the rest of their banter. Their appearance in Soul Society is a rare occurrence and she still hasn't figured out why (maybe she has but those are probably her own wistful thinking). Any sort of interaction outside of the standard working relationship they have is uncommon, even after the charges against Urahara and Yoruichi were dropped.

She hates to admit it but Urahara is quite right. For one who usually stands on the sidelines, jumping out and stalling Enjouji's bid isn't something he would do. It doesn't matter if he's motivated by his loyalty to Yoruichi or actually feels sorry for her, Soi Fon knows that she probably owes him this one. So she gives him a curt nod. But even that doesn't hide the sincere gratitude in her next word.

"Thanks."

_"W-what?"_  
_"Ehhhh?"_

The gaping looks of disbelief on both Yoruichi and Urahara's faces are just plain offensive.

Soi Fon heaves out an exasperated sigh. She may be distant but she's not exactly rude. "You heard me." She grumbles out as they snicker at her, "I am not saying it twice."

Urahara catches her eye and holds her gaze, wearing a look she can't really describe. Maybe she's projecting, but for a moment, it feels like they've both reached a point of mutual understanding, or perhaps even respect.

Sobering up, Yoruichi clears her throat, "Yeah, well. Kisuke, thanks for being useful, I guess." As if to hide her moment of sincerity, she reaches out and roughly pulls his hat down over his eyes.

* * *

By the time Yoruichi and Soi Fon stop again, they're back near the Division 2 barracks. This is the first time, today, that Soi Fon is alone with her with no further interruptions imminent. Almost afraid they'll be interrupted again, she can't help the way her question rushes out so clumsily.

"I don't quite understand, Yoruichi-sama. Why did you participate in the auction? I mean, surely you're well aware that there's no need for you to 'buy' my company." She fumbles and curses her regression into that awkward, shy teenager. (Even after an entire century of "growth", she's still...) "What I'm trying to say is-"

"I know what you're trying to say, Little Bee, so calm your buzzing." Yoruichi ruffles her hair fondly. There's a slight pause (but it's enough for the Commander of the Onmitsukidou to notice her expression flickering between serious and playful).

"Let's just say I'm a bit attached to SWA. So, you know, a bit of donation for a good cause and all that."

Soi Fon thinks that maybe, by now, she's perceptive enough to pick up when someone is leaving things half unsaid. But then again, her judgement is always clouded by her own feelings when it comes to this woman. So she swears she wouldn't get her hopes up. That she should just take whatever Yoruichi says at face value. The only response she ends up giving was a few nods before they both start walking again.

The silence that settles over the two isn't the least bit uncomfortable - more closer to relaxed. Soi Fon isn't sure why she's surprised. Nothing between them is exactly new. Her hardened personality always, _always_ melt away whenever she feels that calming pulse of Yoruichi's reiatsu.

(What if she never left?)

(What if she took her along?)

Yoruichi speaks up again, her unusually emotional tone slicing through Soi Fon's thoughts, "You're worth a hell lot more than that Enjouji kid can offer you, you know? You're worth more than whatever pitiful amount I threw out too."

Soi Fon remains quiet, partly because she's still trying to drag herself back to the present. She watches her mentor, the embodiment of confidence itself, struggle to find her words.

(She tries not to jump ahead, lest she misinterprets her words. So she waits.)

(Waiting, she's learnt by now, is her biggest asset. Both on and off the field.)

Yoruichi runs her fingers through her hair in frustration, getting caught in the resulting tangles. "I just... I just think that if I win the bid, then maybe you wouldn't think the day would be a waste. I know I'm being presumptuous here but honestly speaking, I'm pretty sure it'd be more fun spending time with me than Enjouji or whoever."

Despite the slight cockiness of her words, Yoruichi looks anything but that. For the first time, Soi Fon realises, their positions might have swapped. She's the one unfazed for once.

_...So this is what it feels like._

She smiles softly at her bashful companion, letting out some of her deepest affection to warm her gaze. Even if she tried to hide her crush back then, she knows Yoruichi was perceptive enough to at least suspect it. But now, after months of working on restoring their friendship and working as equals, Soi Fon no longer actively hides her feelings. It would be a futile attempt anyway.

(But there's only one thing she has promised herself not to do.)

(The ball is in Yoruichi's court and, really, always has been.)

Then again, even if Soi Fon has to be patient, it doesn't mean she couldn't still nudge her a little.

"Since you did win the bid, I have to spend the rest of the day on a date with you." Soi Fon pretends to mull over her words, "So what should we do, Yoruichi-sama?"

Soi Fon's a little taken aback by her own flirtatious tone and judging by the look Yoruichi currently wears, she is too. But Yoruichi recovers quickly and smoothly, grinning wide and mischievous in return.

"Well..."

There's a flash and Yoruichi disappears from her side. Only for Soi Fon to find gold eyes and teasing smirk mere inches from her face.

"How about a classic game of tag?" Ghost of a touch and whispers of a breeze through her hair. "You're it."

With an echoing chuckle, Soi Fon is left with the afterimage of her Shunshin once more.

At least this time, she knows she can catch up.

* * *

**A/N:** If you wish to pick/specify a prompt from the list, please visit the link in my profile. I'll try to fit some in.

Hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading.


	2. X (Catch) Me

**X (Catch) Me: **A nostalgic game of flash tag.

**A/N: **Apologies for the long wait. This was actually finished a month ago but my beta got busy with school so didn't get around to editing it. And then school kicked my ass so I didn't have time to get this out until now. Thanks for your patience.

Originally written under the **Amuse Me **prompt but it became a rather experimental piece with too liberal an interpretation of the prompt. Now reclassified.  
General prompt: write whatever it is that you wish.

Direct continuation of **Offer Me**.

**Disclaimer:** BLEACH belongs to Kubo Tite.

* * *

You draw to a stop, hiding. In the thickets of the sakura grove. Not to catch your breath, no. But because, for one terrifying moment, you thought she wasn't behind you anymore.

Why should she chase after you? You berate yourself. Especially not after that tearful confession. So many moons ago.

_Who am I?_ She had asked you that night, broken. Physically, emotionally. Laying her soul to bare under the harsh light of the full moon. _Who am I without you?_

It wasn't some affectionate declaration, uttered forth, bashful and raw, from her lips. It was an angry, confused exclamation, exploding, bitter and raw from deep within her soul.

Hearing her anguish that night. Knife sharp pains in your heart. The space, missing, where her left arm should be – doesn't even get close to illustrating the space missing in her.

You understand. You do.

You've felt it before – during the century long exile.

_Who are you? Without your name, title and rank? Without her to worship you?_

Her ache – you feel it in the air, suffocating both of you that night – is so much more. The story she weaved. Of the time apart. Makes you feel like you never really were apart. You filled her thoughts and fuelled her fire. It didn't matter; the hateful spite that tangled itself into her memories of you – it didn't matter.

Not when you plagued her dreams and seeped into her every pore and built into her every muscle and bone.

It wasn't intentional.

You never thought you would leave such a profound mark upon her clear soul. But it doesn't stop you from feeling guilty. As you watched her walk away.

_I need to find myself again_. She told you, with her back to you, rigid and tense. _This time, without you being the reason behind my every action_.

So you let her go.

Not realising, at some point, she already took a piece of you. With her.

* * *

But she came back, you remind yourself as you wait. Seeking the light hint of her reiatsu. It wasn't a goodbye. Instead, she gifted you both with a new start.

You wait. Because you have more faith in her than yourself. The promise she makes – words made of iron chains – she never breaks.

A change in the air.

Subtle.

You freeze, breathing slow, trying to pinpoint the little burst. Hoping you're not imagining it. Rustling whispers of autumn leaves, the hint of her repressed reiatsu. Stronger now. A calm settles over you - like her presence has always done. Your worries assured.

You meet her halfway. In the open. Your sakura grove – _ours_ – it echoes in your head. The previous wave of turbulence within you, hidden back behind a familiar smirk.

"I see you took your time to change." You call to her first. Her flowing yukata – made of petals of spring – is gone. In place, she wears the Onmitsukidou uniform you designed. With the soft light of dusk bathing her bare shoulders and back.

She looks shy – self-conscious when she needn't be, "I couldn't move properly with that on and we're playing tag so…" Her words drift off into the breeze before she catches herself.

You know she's trying to leave her old self behind. The puppy that followed you everywhere you go. Already, you can feel it fade. Grown and matured into a guard dog – fierce but devoted, nonetheless.

But devoted to whom? You're still afraid to ask. Afraid her answer no longer sounds like the tinkling bells of the wind chime, hanging out your window. No longer ringing your name: _Yoruichi-sama_

You watch her silvery eyes narrow at you – playful but suspicious. She's probably expecting you to taunt her. Not knowing you stopped running because you were scared she wouldn't follow.

And you don't want her to know – how the mere idea of her fading from your side. Terrifies you.

So you tease her.

"Then, should I expect you to be chasing me properly now? No more excuses, since you're–"

The bare hint of her smirk flashes across your eyes. Smug. But it also happens to be your new favourite. Expression of hers – confidence suits her better than bashfulness. Even though you miss that sweetness – when it was exclusively bestowed upon you.

Warmth surrounds you. Goosebumps rise, betraying you. Giving her a glimpse of _you _- just you. Like a ribbon, her presence, close. Wraps around you and settle, gentle and calming.

You expect to see her face – nose to nose – a replay of the scene before.

Instead, a familiar tender touch, in the middle of your back. Feather light. But you shiver – sparks running down your spine. A wave of tingles bloom from that spot – like the bloom of her houmonka – erupting from her touch.

You're tagged. This time with less hostile intent. Than the first.

Tickle soft sensations around your neck. Wistfully, you wish it was her arms. But the cold breeze that lands - like a shock of cold water - on your bare neck tells you otherwise. You find her. A safe distance away. Out of reach - ever since she came back - she's been out of your reach.

You watch her wrap your scarf. Around her neck. It suits her, you realise. Trying to ignore the yearning tug of your thoughts - tugging you down a different - unfamiliar - direction.

"Do you remember?" Soi Fon's voice, rich in nostalgia, floats back to you, "When you used to steal Byakuya-taichou's hair ties?"

Of course you do. You remember her. Watching from the rooftops. Watching you - out of her sense of obligations, out of amused interest - you'd never know.

You give her a slow nod, having a feeling that you know where this might be going. That little flutter in your stomach - is that anticipation or is that dread?

A deliciously cocky smirk, spreads across her face - challenging, teasing you. She flickers off, without a word. Leaving an imprint. Of her afterimage in your mind's eyes.

You're rooted to the spot. Dazed. By her strength, her speed. _Her_. You're still the Shunshin - you can afford a few seconds to be impressed. To realise your roles have somehow reversed now: You're the chaser - she the chased.

_When has she gotten so fast?_

Nauseating wave of dread hits you - unsettled, unbalanced. You shunpou soon after her - suddenly afraid she'll slip through your fingers. And leave _you _behind.

* * *

Laughter fills the night air. Like fireflies in the twilight of summer.

You chase after her.

Both of your footfalls, nimble and quiet. Relaxed - neither of you in a rush to end the game. You're holding back. Holding back because you actually enjoy the view of her back. Rarely seen for Soi Fon used to follow you. Your back to her.

You wonder - you wonder a lot these days, unsure and a little lost - if you would ever truly live up to her expectations. How do you tell her you're merely... _you_? Would her eyes lose that reverent glow? When the divine veil shrouding you is cast away. Would she still follow you? When she realises you're a mortal, no different from her.

Whipping of the wind - tousling through your hair - picks up those fragmented thoughts and flings them out. Out of your mind. All you could focus on is the steadiness of your own breath, pounding of your heart. Keeping your distance from her. Yet. Keeping her in sight.

Within reach.

The rings in her braids, catching the moonlight and twinkling coyly back at you. You close your eyes and let her reiatsu lead you. Letting your remaining senses direct you. Having spent the better part of your exile in a feline form, you've learnt to read the smells and sounds of nature.

The drier, sharper smell of autumn leaves. Their crinkling under your feet. A certain - smokier, heavier - smell of the evening. The shimmering ripples flowing through the air.

Your golden eyes open again. Bringing the world back into focus.

And the first thing. You notice is the muscles of Soi Fong's naked back - loosened from its usual stiff tension. Both of you seem to have lost yourself to the carefreeness and gentleness of each other's company. Serene. Relaxed. By the rhythm of your footsteps and the steady - but faint - pulsing of each other's reiatsu.

That's when it hits you and you almost stumble to a stop.

Sometime after your exile, you've already knocked yourself off your pedestal. Soi Fon has probably long stopped seeing you as her goddess, you realise with a slight aftertaste of bitterness. And yet, her feelings for you - her _respect_, you remind yourself - doesn't seemed to have faded away.

But it's not entirely unchanged. Gone was the idolising of an attainable deity. Gone was the myth of an infallible being. All that's left of you is... just a woman. Powerful in her own right, but an ordinary woman, nonetheless.

With a startling gasp, you finally, _finally_ comprehend the fact. That you've been knocked out of the sky. And from now, the two of you stand. On the same plane.

As equals.

* * *

This is it.

Reaching out, you catch her by the hand - fitting right in the gaps, locking - and pull her gently back. The change in momentum spins her around and right into your waiting arms.

Breathless. Breathless but beaming widely at you.

You can feel her pulse - right beneath your fingers - racing, running wild. Still high from the chase. The warm puffs of breath, visible in the coolness of an Autumn night. You're hyper aware of it, feeling it barely brushing your lips. Both of you still, calming your hearts and just settle. Into the space between your bodies - carved out specially for each other.

She's gorgeous under this light - muted and warm. It's not as harsh as the light of a full moon. Not as harsh of that night.

She's gorgeous in every circumstance. But tonight, even more so. Though Soi Fon is in your arms now, the distance between the two of you is still too big. You can feel it - your need for her, your need to close the gap - and it aches and aches. Reverberating through your heart.

She watches you, her silvery eyes careful and alert. Save the soft blush dusting her cheeks, there's nothing to pick up from the passive expression on her face. It used to sort of stab at you, when you first found out how much harder it was to read her. But now... well, she's just a more confident and self-assured version of herself. And it's undeniably beautiful.

You like that - the idea of learning and getting to know her all over again. You want her to know you too.

So you reach out and tug. Tug. Tug the end of your scarf - around her neck - and pull her close. Nose to nose. Close enough to notice the grey specks - scattered like stars - in her blue-grey irises. Close enough to watch the way her tongue pokes out, nervously wetting her lips. You couldn't help but wonder how her lips would feel, how her lips would feel against _yours_.

You don't stop yourself rushing forward. Pressing a lingering kiss on the corner of her lips. Inking a promise - for now - into her skin. Because it's too early. Still, you want her to know – how you feel – how you want to try – maybe there's an _us _somewhere down the line.

She understands – of course she does. She gives out a little sigh and you feel her melt. The tension rolling off her in waves and she sinks into you - arms wrapping around your neck at the last minute - her only anchor. Your arms snake around her waist and hold her tight - telling her through your touch. Telling her you won't let go. You won't leave.

The two of you stand there, holding each other close and just. Enjoying. The heat of each other; the softness; the strength. Like in the eye of a storm, you're at the centre, calm. Outside, the world swirls past. It's like the wild winds are whipping and merging your past selves, the present and your future ambitions into one. Hope. And so the rest - irrelevant, unnecessary, burdensome - just dissolve away into nothingness.

All that is left is. A promise of a future. However vague and uncertain it may be.

But with Soi Fon settled so comfortably in your arms, the way she clutches at you - mirror image of the way _you're_ grabbing onto her - tight, vulnerable.

Still, you can feel the small, content smile she's half hiding in the crook of your neck.

Right now, that's enough for you.

* * *

**A/N:** I'd just like to clarify that this is departing from canon after defeat of Aizen arc. I've thrown in quite a bit of my own headcanons in here so I could explore it in later prompts since they're all in the same universe. If there's some parts that sound a bit sudden and unexplained (especially what happened to Soi Fon's arm, what happened in the time-skip and rebuilding/re-establishing the relationship between Yoruichi and Soi Fon), hopefully, I'll get a fill out and explain it there.

I do hope this experimental style wasn't too badly done. I'll probably go back to something less stream of consciousness-y in other prompts. But I think I'll keep Yoruichi's POV in second person. Please leave a comment and let me know how you're liking this style, or if I should continue/discontinue it.

Once again, if you wish to pick/specify a prompt from the list, please visit the link in my profile. I'll try to fit some in. I've got a **Nurse Me** and** Paint Me** prompt to fill, so look forward to that. Also, apologies in advance if I take too long to update.

Hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading.


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